


Pack Behaviour

by CaffieneKitty



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF John, Community: watsons_woes, DO NOT TRY THIS WITH ACTUAL WOLVES, Gen, Inadvisable wolf attack strategies, M/M, POV John Watson, Peril, Wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 00:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4586646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaffieneKitty/pseuds/CaffieneKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one thing that made this worse than Baskerville was that this time it was real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pack Behaviour

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [watsons_woes](http://watsons-woes.livejournal.com/) July Writing Prompt #29: [Picture Prompt: Snow Wolf](http://watsons-woes.livejournal.com/1422382.html)

The one thing that made this worse than Baskerville was that this time it was real.

John pressed his back against the cement wall of the wolf enclosure, head still ringing from the fall he'd taken when the animal organ black marketeer had shoved him in. In front of him prowled three grey wolves, snarling.

"Don't make eye contact, John!" came Sherlock's voice from above. "Don't show your teeth or throat!"

John tried very hard to watch-but-not-watch the phalanx of wolves. He nodded shallowly, hunching into his collar and breathing through his nose.

"The keeper access door is twenty yards to your right behind the rocks and trees. Make your way toward it, I'll get there and unlock it and get you out!"

John nodded again and edged to his right. One of the wolves snapped and lunged at him and he froze. The wolves' snarling escalated.

 _This isn't going to work._ John swallowed, looking at the long distance to the exit. _This can't work. They think I'm prey._

His head swam for a moment, and he became aware of how he was standing. Half-huddled up, frozen, cringing against a wall, not being a threat of any sort. _They think I'm prey because I'm acting like prey._

Another half-step, and two lunged and snapped as the third moved to John's right, cutting him off.

John squatted slowly and picked up a fist-sized rock, then slowly stood again. _Twenty yards. Right._

With a fierce shout he threw the rock at the right-most wolf and broke into a run. He heard the rock hit but didn't stop until he was at the edge of the stand of trees, when the two other wolves loped in front of him.

It was a mercy these were captive wolves. John guessed that in the wild his maneuver might have turned him immediately into lunch. Here it had gained him five yards. He stood as big as he could, spreading his arms to his sides and shouting wordlessly. The wolves snapped and lunged, then regrouped as the one John had hit with the rock rejoined the pack.

John took the opportunity to back further into the copse of trees. They were far too small to climb, but John broke off the sturdiest branch as he kept his eyes on the wolves, who had regrouped and were prowling after him again.

 _Hit them in the nose. Or is that for sharks? Doesn't matter._ John swung his branch and clouted the closest wolf in the snout. It tumbled back with a yipe but quickly found its feet and resumed closing in.

John kept backing toward the keeper's door, swinging the branch in front of him, not daring take his eyes off the wolves to see how close he was getting. The wolves prowled with more intent now. He wasn't just an interloper or prey now, he was a threat.

 _Too bloody right I'm a threat._ He didn't avoid meeting the wolves' eyes anymore, snarling as he backed away, swinging his branch. _You lot aren't the only dangerous creatures in this enclosure._

The door opened behind him and something jerked him through by his collar. John snarled and tackled what had grabbed him. Sherlock managed to kick the door shut on the three angry wolves as John landed on top of him, wild-eyed, snarling and brandishing his branch.

"It's-" Sherlock gasped, a bit winded by the impact. "Just me, John. The suspect fled."

John blinked. "Erm. Right. I- oh!" He rolled off his flatmate and only after he saw the door was shut and the wolves had not followed, threw his branch away down the utilitarian hallway.

Sherlock looked at him oddly from the floor. "'He's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf.'"

John blinked then laughed. "Yeah, well, mad doesn't do a bad job at describing either of us."

Sherlock grinned. "No, it doesn't."

Giggling, they helped each other off the floor and went to relocate their missing criminal quarry.

-.-.-  
(that's it)

**Author's Note:**

> Sherlock is quoting King Lear Act 3, Scene 6.


End file.
